What's in a Name?
by Sagashiteru
Summary: What if Cell joined the Z Warriors after the Cell Games saga? Part of a longer fic I might write someday. Cell/Android 18


**AU after the Cell Games Saga, where Cell has joined the Z Warriors. Details at the end.**

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There was movement in the Capsule Crop. headquarters' kitchen, but her heart was frozen. Piccolo sat on a chair on the other side of the kitchen, swirling his glass of water silently, wearing his weighted turban and cloak, and sullen scowl. He appeared to be deep in thought: not unusual for him, as she had learned as she had gotten to know everyone. Future Trunks stood leaning on a counter, his arms crossed over his chest, a distinctly Vegeta-like expression on his face. Krillin sat at the table, his head bowed. He looked up, meeting her eyes accidentally, an ill-contained pain in his expression, before his gaze immediately fell again.

 _He_ was the one she was most aware of, though. She couldn't see him; no, he sat behind her, but his presence was there. She was the only one he affected in this way. The gloom in the kitchen was not because a powerful foe who had sought to kill all of them only a couple of months ago was now one of them; the Z Warriors were used to having new members, enemies-turned-friends, by now. No, she was the only one whose heart ached when he came close, the only person who longed and did not know what she longed for, the only one who pined for him and hated herself for it.

She was the only Z Warrior he'd killed.

Her breath caught again; she thought a small gasp might have escaped her throat – the drip of water that escapes a destructive sea wave held back by shaking rocks – a glimpse at the chaos inside her. Krillin looked up, and hurt flashed in his eyes. He clenched his right fist on his knee for the slightest moment. His knuckles shone white, for just an instant, and his veins grew prominent. He shook a little in his place, before his muscles relaxed, appearing to let go, and he got up, and walked out of the kitchen. If Piccolo or Trunks noticed anything, neither of them said anything, but _he_ , she knew, noticed, but he didn't say anything either.

The noon sun poured white light into the headquarters from outside.

Cell sat on a stool in the kitchen. He leaned so far back an ordinary man would have fallen. His arms were folded on his chest, the light green of his Perfect Form in stark difference from how he had once been. In front of him she sat.

Android 18 did not look at him, facing firmly ahead. She did her best to look calm, but he caught every small movement she made. A nervous fidget. A brush of her hair out of her face. A small jerk of her head. She did not react to Krillin's flight, for it was obviously a flight; Cell knew no one in the room kid themselves otherwise. What did Krillin expect? Cell could almost snort.

Almost.

But not quite.

She was the image of barely contained chaos. He felt as turbulent as she did. Maybe more. But he was in complete control of himself. He didn't let a single cue escape. Sometimes he wanted to wish his control of himself wasn't so absolute. Perhaps a slight slip of control, an error in design, a _bug_ , could have made everything so much easier to bear, but he was the _perfect_ specimen. There were no glitches in his design. Perhaps, a little show of emotion would have helped, but he would never allow himself such _weakness_. He found himself less concerned about what was going on outside than this…

He sensed Vegeta's energy approaching long before the Saiyan Prince, or King, really, since his father was long dead, burst into the kitchen, dressed in the armor of his people. Piccolo did not look up from the glass of water he held, but a hint of surprise shone through Trunks's Vegeta-face.

"Boy!" Vegeta said.

"Father," said Trunks carefully.

"The gravity chamber is ready," Vegeta announced. "We're going to train. Kakarot and his brat have already begun."

"Yes, father," Trunks said. He swiftly followed his father out of the room, throwing a glance at Cell and 18 as he went, and exchanging a quick look of mutual respect with Piccolo. It was amusing, Cell thought, that, though the boy liked to pretend otherwise, he was the spitting image of his father: a younger, less grumpy, watered-down, or Bulma'd-down, Cell supposed, version of Vegeta, granted, but a Vegeta nonetheless.

Piccolo looked at the two creations of Dr. Gero. The tension in the kitchen was thick - almost suffocating. He was silent for a while, studying their movements with a practiced eye. Having no love for either of them, he did not care for what was going on between them. He was not so easy to forgive as Goku - he had no trust in them. It would not surprise him if they were to attempt to betray the Z Fighters, and destroy them from the inside. If it came to that, Piccolo thought, it would be a cunning strategy, what with Goku's trusting nature and all. His gaze fell on Cell, but he was mostly focused on Android 18, and she looked troubled. Piccolo's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. Still, he couldn't pretend he found anything off. He drained the last of his water, set the glass silently on the counter, and followed the Saiyans out of the kitchen.

Cell saw 18 visibly stiffen. She turned to the counter, her blond hair obscuring her face, but he could see her struggling, her heart raging. Such a strange thing, Cell thought… for Androids made of pieces of metal, at least in her case, to have such sentiments, such… human feelings. He'd always considered himself above such petty distractions, but she had broken who he was and melted into him. And she didn't accept it. It caused him more pain than any Father-Son Kamehameha ripping him apart ever could. He didn't like to admit it, but there was a storm raging inside his heart as well.

Gohan stepped into the room. "Hey, guys," he said. "Have you seen my dad–"

He stopped when he saw the only ones in the kitchen were Android 18 and Cell, the former of whom had her face covered by her hair. She did not look up when he entered. Cell looked at him silently. A look of mutual respect, much like the one that had passed between Trunks and Piccolo, passed between Cell and Gohan. Gohan cast a knowing glance toward 18, then nodded in acknowledgement at Cell, and retreated.

Cell almost did not wish to be left alone with her. He suppressed a sigh. He looked at her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She shivered slightly, but did not say anything.

"18," Cell said, his deep voice serious and, she had never thought it possible, _uncertain_. She shut her eyes tight. Her heart felt close to bursting. She almost wished it would; it would be a relief to be free from this agony for _one second_. She wished she could close her eyes and be in another place for _one moment_. _Why_ would she feel like this for _him_ , of all people! She wished she could close her eyes, and when she opened them, Krillin's dreams would have come true. But that wouldn't work either. _Follow your heart_ , the humans said, but what about when her heart led her to darkness?

She clenched her fists. There was more blood on her hands than Cell and Krillin combined, and throw in Goku and Vegeta, as well. She was still a greater monster than they could ever be. One look at Future Trunks, the shadows deep inside his eyes, the impossible weight the boy carried on his shoulders, and the uncontrollable wish to wrench her heart out and fling it as far away as she could, to not be herself for one second, would seize her, strong enough to drive her to the ends of the Earth. She wished she could be someone else for a glimpse. Was that too much to wish for? To be someone, anyone else, to not be someone who had destroyed the entire fucking world and so many billions of lives for one second?

He had killed her, but could she really resent him for that? How long before this timeline became like Trunks's?

She was in a void where no one could reach her. She could not hear anything over the song of her own misery blaring inside her. Not one whisper could reach her in her darkest, truest self.

"Lazuli."

She froze, and melted, and froze again. It was as if someone had lit a fire inside her. A fire raged inside, blazing into existence with that one word. Gaping, she raised her head, looking at him. He looked back, his expression guarded, but, with a jolt, she realized that she was seeing him more himself that she had ever seen – than anyone had ever seen.

"What… What did you call me?" she whispered, her voiced hushed, not daring to believe he had said what he had. She wished, and didn't wish at the same time, that he would speak it again.

He raised his white hand, and with one long finger, caressed her face. "That is your name, isn't it?" he murmured. She continued to gape at him. Her _name_ … Was it possible she…

Her _name_...

She hadn't been that in...

How long...?

He cupped her face, running his thumb over her cheek. She raised a shaking hand to her face, and with a shock discovered that her cheeks were wet. _No_ , she realized, _not running_. _Wiping_. _He's wiping my tears away_.

He looked at her with an expression she had never seen in her life before. It was strange that it should come from _him_ , but he had fit right in with the rest, good friends with many of them, even Trunks, who could never look at _her_ except with poorly disguised hate and contemptuous mistrust. Cell looked at her with the one thing she had always longed for, but had never dared to hope for.

Acceptance. Pure, unadulterated acceptance.

The ache in her heart exploded, until she could no longer contain it. It felt as if she were stretched her arms, reaching out for him to engulf her in his, where she would be okay. She could face an army and emerge unscathed, but she couldn't fight the demons inside her. Not alone.

Her breath quick, she looked back into his eyes, tears continuing to flow down her face. He looked back. He never thought he would feel a weak, petty human emotion such as love, but if _Vegeta_ could embrace it… And that guy was the original.

Cell did not see any hesitation in her. He leaned closer, bridging the gap between them.

She gave in.

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 **I've shipped Cell and 18 as long as I can remember. It's not the most popular of ships. in fact, i don't think ive ever seen anyone ship them except me. i have a pretty long fic planned, perfectly canon until the end of the Cell Games Saga (I wanna turn the entire series into a fic here, till that point). after that it goes completely AU and i make changes i like. if you liked this very unusual story, or were interested in it at all and would like to see me write my full fic (or other stuff), please be sure to tell me so in a review. i need a nudge.**

 **if you find any errors, i assure you they're typos. i can be careless. sorry if there are any :( i often end up overlooking such minor details**

 **thanks for reading ^-^**


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